


Jolly Good Show (F'ing Pumpkin 2)

by deducethegay



Series: F'ing Pumpkin [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Felching, Light Dom/sub, M/M, john's an angry bisexual, listen i can't prepare u for this, not necessarily human felching either, not necessarily human sex, there's other stuff but lets face it if you don't care about those tags u don't care about shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deducethegay/pseuds/deducethegay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's 1895 and our son holmes done put his dick in a pumpkin<br/>featuring dr. john angry-horny-bisexual watson</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jolly Good Show (F'ing Pumpkin 2)

It was the night of Halloween, the 31st of October 1895, and a sense of anticipation hung in the air amongst the dimly lit streets of London. Doctor John Watson regarded the closed shutters, the food left out as an offering to spirits, with a low chuckle and a roll of his eyes. Such superstitious nonsense was far below a man of his intellect, and it was with a smug smile and a head held high that he strolled home from work.

He could only imagine what Holmes must think of such a holiday. As he let himself through the door and made his way up the stairs he found himself laughing at the image of Holmes walking by his side, sneering at the extravagant costumes and masks, that sharp wit of his tearing the traditions apart. 

“… _Oh God._ ”

Watson halted at the top of the stairs at the sound of a strained voice coming from his and Holmes’ rooms. As he slowly approached the door he heard the sound of thumping and what sounded like a man…panting. 

“Holmes?” Watson placed his hand on the door, his military instincts alert as his skin prickled, “Are you quite alright?” 

“Christ, Watson I- Just a minute!” 

Watson noticed a distinct _thump_ and a hurried shuffling noise. Scowling, he realized this was most likely Holmes desperately attempting to disguise some disastrous experiment. 

“For God’s sake, Holmes!” He flung the door open, his right hand clenching into a fist, “I am at my wits end with your damn experiments! You-”

It was one of the very rare occasions John Watson was stunned into silence. In his living room, on his table, sat a small pumpkin. It couldn’t have weighed very much, even less so now considering it had been hollowed out with an intrinsic pattern of circles carved around the orange flesh. 

“I say, old boy, is that a…pumpkin?”

“Brilliant deduction Watson. As per usual your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.”

Watson’s eyes snapped up to meet Holmes’ gaze, his lips pulling back to remind him that it was never a good idea to insult a solider, but he found himself hesitating at the sight of Holmes’ face. With his dilated pupils and face flushed scarlet, framed by those unruly curls, he looked so different to the cold hearted detective Watson wrote into his stories. He had a sudden desire to reach forward and brush the curls from Holmes’ forehead, not caring a jot that his hair was currently coated in the insides of the pumpkin. 

“Watson?”

Watson cleared his throat, shaking himself out of that disconcerting dream. “I- er, yes, Holmes?”

Holmes’ eyes were fixed onto him like a hawk, undressing him ruthlessly with his mastered art of deduction. “You’re home early.” He said, the words slowly dripping out of his mouth. 

“Well, it’s to be expected. After all it is the night of Halloween, ordinary people desire to be in their own homes when the veil between the world of the spirits and the living are the thinnest.” Watson said, smirking at the notion of ghostly spirits haunting Baker Street.

“Ah! that would have been my second guess.”

“The first?”

Holmes fiddled with his pumpkin, his eyes cast down as he fought the smile on his face. “That you had killed all your patients.”

Watson’s hand was clenching again and through gritted teeth he near growled, “May I remind you that I am a solider. You may want to think twice before insulting my profession.” 

Holmes gave a most theatrical roll of his eyes, so much so it was a wonder they didn’t roll right out of his head. “Oh  _spare me_. You’re not a solider, you are a doctor.” 

“I’m an army doctor which means I can break every bone in your body  _while_ naming them.”

His threat seemed to have an unusual affect on Holmes, Watson noticed the detective’s cheeks aching an even brighter shade of red as he visibly swallowed. 

“Speaking of Halloween…” Watson desperately tried to change the subject in an effort to push back the image of closing his lips around Holmes’ bobbing Adam’s apple, “Is that what all this pumpkin business is about? I believe I read somewhere that pumpkin carving was a Celtic tradition on Halloween- although I must say your circles do not look nearly terrifying enough to ward off evil spirits.”

“Yes.” Said Holmes flatly, his eyes nervously flickering from Watson to the pumpkin “That’s exactly what this is.”

“Well,” Watson said as he stepped towards the pumpkin, “perhaps I can be of assistance?”

“No!” The words flew out of Holmes’ mouth, his fingers digging into the pumpkin as he cleared his throat “I mean to say, no that will not be necessary, Watson. I desire to work alone tonight.” 

Watson’s chest swelled with indignation and he masked his wounded pride as an angry huff. “There is absolutely no use in talking to you when you are in one of your moods, Holmes. I’m going to bed.” 

And with that he stormed towards his bedroom with the intention of shutting himself away in his room for the remainder of the night- however he happened to glance back at the sight of Holmes, and what a sight it was. 

From where he was standing previously the small pumpkin had blocked Watson’s view of what was a rather small, but ever so prominent, erection. Watson couldn’t help but feel a smug sensation as he realized his own genitalia was  _considerably_ bigger. His tongue snaked out and wetted his lips,  _Holmes was aroused_. Feeling his blood rushing south, Watson wasn’t too surprised to find his own body about to betray him. 

“Good heavens…Holmes are you-”

A strangled noise came from Holmes who had prayed Watson wouldn’t notice, beads of sweat gathered at the nape of his neck as he searched his mind palace inventory for an excuse. Unfortunately the  _transport situation_  was hindering his brain activity. “I- Oh God, Watson, I can explain” He started, maneuvering himself so as to hide from Watson behind the pumpkin. 

“Please do.”

“Well, you see, in my research of Celtic folklore I may have come across something…unusual. Something which would require a practical…biological experiment-” 

That obscene tongue of Watson’s had darted out at the word ‘biological’ and Holmes winced at his voice breaking as he tried to press on, “I read… I read that if one were to _engage_ with a pumpkin at a particular time, specifically 21:00 on the 31st of October, unusual…happenings would occur.”

Holmes found his breath coming in short, hard, pants as Watson slowly edged towards him. With a voice soft but authoritative, the voice he used when trying to coax answers from Holmes, he asked “And what  _exactly_  do you mean by ‘engage’ my boy?”

Holmes gulped in a lungful of air, cheeks flaming, he fixed his eyes firmly on the floor- away from Watson’s looming presence. His voice wobbled as he replied, “Engage s-sexually of course.” 

“You mean to say…” Holmes could hear Watson was even closer now, but he daren’t meet his gaze. “Prior to my entry you were… engaging…with this pumpkin?” 

“If you want to be precise about it, yes.” As he answered he risked a glance at Watson who looked as though he was about to implode. His chest visibly rose and fell, his pupils were fully dilated and Holmes’ stomach flipped at the outline of the monstrous erection Watson sported. 

Watson gave a thoughtful hum as he raked his eyes up and down Holmes’ body, then, without a word, he took a seat at the table where the pumpkin was placed. 

“Watson! You can’t-” Holmes gaped at the smug smile of his friend who now sat opposite him, “You can not possibly be thinking- surely you do not wish to see this.” 

“Well,” Watson replied, his eyes wickedly dragging down Holmes’ body onto the pumpkin, “Since you won’t allow me to assist you, I at least intend to watch. This is, after all, my room as well as yours. I have every right to be here.” 

Holmes’ brain positively  _screamed_ as it staggered to a halt. This couldn’t be right- Watson  _wanted_  him? Like this? No. Surely. 

“If you wish to…” Holmes’ voice was barely a whisper, “I would appreciate your, ah, assistance. Very much so, in fact.” 

It took three, impossibly loud, heartbeats to thump in Holmes’ chest before Watson narrowed his eyes and stood up. He then crept around the table towards Holmes, their eyes never breaking contact. Adrenaline pumping in his veins Watson surged forward, seized Holmes by his shirt, and pulled him into a bruising kiss. 

For a moment Holmes was stunned into shock by the sheer force of Watson’s mouth against his own, but it wasn’t long before he tilted his head back and deepened the kiss. That clever tongue of Watson’s seemed to be everywhere at once, and Holmes hardly noticed the wanton moan that was torn from his own throat. Inexperienced as he was, he kissed Watson back with all the feeling of desire he had silently harboured over the years, desire for someone he assumed would be repulsed at the notion of kissing another gentleman. 

Finally the need for oxygen broke them apart and just as Watson gasped in a lungful of air Holmes blurted, “Where do you want me?”

Watson’s laughter echoed around the room causing Holmes to scowl embarrassment. Catching sight of the younger man’s expression Watson stopped laughing immediately, reached out to rest his palm against Holmes’ cheek and murmured “Oh my dear boy, don’t presume I was laughing at your suggestion. Rest assured I certainly want you in more ways than one- I was merely amused as I thought this was  _your_  experiment.” 

“Oh.” Holmes smiled sheepishly, his slender hands gesturing towards the pumpkin. “Yes, this is my experiment. Perhaps you would be so kind as to hold the pumpkin steady while I…” 

“While you engage with it, darling?” Watson winked up at Holmes’ scarlet face as he placed his hands firmly either side of the pumpkin. 

“Er- yes. I would suggest you join in but, what with the size of the pumpkin-”

“Ah yes it would prove quite a stretch. It’s a blessing and a curse for the few men, like myself, who happen to be so very well endowed.” 

Watson’s teasing stirred something in the pit of Holmes’ stomach and he finally managed to recover that sharp wit he was so well known for “Watson, you always did have a tendency for exaggeration.” 

“Oh believe me, there is no need for exaggeration in this case… _Sherlock_.” 

Watson-  _John’s_  use of his christian name drew an involuntary whine from Holmes’ lips and his flagging erection pricked up at the intimacy of it. Without another word he hurriedly shed his clothes, stripping entirely, tossing his garments across the floor. 

Watson’s breath hissed out of him at the sight of Holmes standing before him, “My God Sherlock… you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.” 

“John,” Sherlock said, his voice wavering as he leveled his half hard erection to one of the holes of the pumpkin, “if you continue to talk to me like that this experiment will finish before it has even begun.” 

Watson’s eyes glinted but his mouth remained shut as he braced his hands against the pumpkin. Ever so slowly Holmes edged inside the hollowed out fuck-pumpkin, whining as the orange mass swallowed his length. 

“Oh John, John, I-  _God._ ” He panted, his eyes fixed firmly on Watson’s hungry gaze as he pushed himself fully into the pumpkin. 

“Beautiful…” Watson whispered at the sight of half of Holmes’ cock engulfed by the pumpkin, the other half poking through the other side. Before Holmes realized what was happening Watson had dropped to his knees and taken the tip of Holmes’ small cock into his mouth. As he suckled, his tongue wickedly working the underside, Holmes cried out, his hand flying to his mouth to stifle the sob that overcame him. Holmes slowly pulled out of the pumpkin, his arms trembling as he braced himself against the table, and Watson hollowed his cheeks- relishing in the way Holmes groaned against his hand. Panting, Holmes pushed back into the pumpkin and Watson’s hot mouth, setting a steady rhythm. Watson considered himself quite the expert on the art of making love with the lips and tongue, but never before had he enjoyed it as much as this. Never before had he performed it on a man quite so sensitive and beautiful as Holmes. 

“J-John…I need  _more_. I want  _more_  of you.” 

Watson pulled off Holmes with an obscene  _pop_ and awkwardly got to his feet to move behind Holmes. Encircling the lean, naked, man with his arms he trailed hot wet kisses up his neck, along his jaw line, then towards his ear. “And where do you want me, my dear Sherlock?”

Holmes gasped as he arched back into Watson’s arms, his fingers gripping into the pumpkin in front. “Here, John.” He rasped as he pressed his arse against the huge hardness nestled behind him. 

Watson kissed his way down Holmes’ pale neck, nipping at his collarbone before growling, “Where do you  _want_  me, Sherlock. Tell me. Use that delicious mouth of yours.” 

“…Inside me.” Holmes whined, torn between rutting into the pumpkin and pushing himself back against Watson. “Fuck me, John.  _Please,_ I beg you _._ ”

Holmes’ plea drew a sound of approval from Watson who gave Holmes’ round backside a quick slap before stepping away. 

“John?” Holmes panted, still reeling from Watson’s touch but hurt at the sudden loss of his body pressed behind him. 

“Don’t turn around.” Watson barked from somewhere behind him just as Holmes began to turn his head, “Stay exactly where you are, my boy. I’m merely looking for…” As he trailed off Holmes could hear the sound of rustling in one of their cupboards. “Something you are going to be quite grateful for.” 

His eyes facing forwards, just as Watson had instructed, Holmes relied on sound to deduce that Watson was making his way back towards him. There was a clinking metal noise too… as if someone was trying to pry the lid off of- 

“ _JOHN._ ” The name came out as a strangled yelp as one finger, coated thoroughly in what was presumably petroleum jelly, pressed gently against Holmes’ most intimate point of entry. 

“Shh, easy there my darling.” Watson cooed in his ear, one hand resting on Holmes’ hip, the other ghosting over Holmes’ hole. “Is this alright?” 

Holmes wanted to scream in affirmation, to scream for more, but the pleasure clouded his mind and choked his voice.

“Sherlock?” Watson said, worry tingeing his voice as he began to draw his hand away from Holmes. 

“No!” Holmes cried at the loss of touch, his voice cracking, “Yes. I mean to say- yes. Yes, John, yes. Please hurry.”

Watson merely hummed in response and soon pressed his fully clothed body against Holmes’ naked back. As Holmes braced against the pumpkin Watson slowly pushed one of his digits inside, groaning at the sensation of Holmes hot and tight around his finger. Holmes was reduced to a whimpering mess, language was lost to him and so a stream of incoherent sounds escaped his lips, sounds that resembled _“John”_ and  _“More”._

“I’ve got you, Sherlock.” Watson murmured as he pumped  and curled his finger slowly in and out of Holmes, adding another once Holmes had relaxed into his touch.

“Mmm- mmore, John” Holmes was gasping now, pushing down hard onto Watson’s fingers. 

“How many do you think you could take? I do believe I could fit my entire hand in this delectable little arse of yours.” Watson hummed as kissed and nipped at Holmes’ shoulder, all the while slowly pushing deeper inside Holmes

“Do it!” Holmes demanded, his cock nearly slipping out of the pumpkin as he slammed himself against Watson’s hand. 

“Well, if you insist.” Watson added a third lubbed finger, his own cock aching painfully at Holmes stretching around his hand. Not long after he had begun to pump with three fingers Holmes grunted “More, John, more.” 

Watson smiled to himself as he spread Holmes’ thighs wider apart with his knee. “Are you ready?” He breathed against Holmes’ ear, his fourth finger trailing eager circles around Holmes’ hole.

“Yes, John…John” Holmes sighed his name like a prayer as Watson pushed the fourth digit inside. The slow burn made Holmes’ eyes well up with tears but it soon eased to something  _much_  more pleasurable. 

“Such a good boy for me, Sherlock…” Watson groaned as he pushed his entire hand in and out of Holmes, the younger man could merely gasp “ _John_ ” in response, over and over, as Watson worked him. 

“Do you think you are ready for me now, Sherlock?” Watson whispered against Holmes’ skin, his hand gently pulling out. 

Holmes nodded his head furiously in reply, whimpering at the loss of Watson’s hand. He began to thrust his hips up into the pumpkin once more, desperate for more friction. 

Watson remained fully clothed but fiddled with his undergarments to release his near-painful erection. Reaching into the tin of petroleum jelly he had placed by his feet he dipped in his hand and liberally coated himself in it. Once he was certain he had prepared himself enough, so as not to hurt Holmes, he pressed the tip of his cock against Holmes’ hole. 

“God, John, John, John,” Holmes panted at the touch, his cock twitching as he realized just how huge Watson was. 

“Ah… Sherlock…” Watson moaned as he slowly sunk inside. Once he had breached Holmes fully he draped himself over the taller man’s back, pressing his lips against Holmes’ ear. 

“ _John_.” Said Holmes, his voice a near sob.

“I love you, Sherlock. I love you.” Watson whispered into Holmes’ skin , over and over, “I  _love_  you.” 

“J-John, I..I” Holmes tried to voice his own love but his mind was too overcome with pleasure to speak. 

“I know, my love. I know.” Watson drew his hips back, gasping at the tight heat of Holmes around his cock. 

He thrust his hips up into Holmes, harder this time, making the younger man scream into his fist as the force of Watson pushed him deeper into the pumpkin. Watson set a steady rhythm, pushing his cock in all the way to the hilt while Holmes simultaneously rocked into his little pumpkin. 

They were lost in a haze of sweat and heat, so much so that they barely noticed the moonlight streaming in from the window that cast an unusual glow on the pumpkin. The sound of Big Ben chiming nine o’clock seemed to echo throughout London, loud enough that it pulled Holmes out of his ecstasy.

“John!” He gasped, moaning as Watson hit a particular sweet spot, “John- the hour is upon us- look at the pumpkin.” 

Watson, hesitating for just a moment, drew his face away from Holmes’ neck to look upon the pumpkin. A silver glow had begun to radiate from it. Before Watson could speak it began to twitch. 

“Good heavens! I do believe it’s possessed!” Watson cried, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“We must keep going, John. whatever this is I doubt it shall last long.” Holmes’ voice was thick with a mix of lust and the excitement of a new experiment. 

Watson did not need to be told twice. Gripping Holmes by his narrow hips he began to pound into him, his eyes fixed on the pumpkin that had begun to move along Holmes’ shaft. 

“Christ, John, it’s performing-  _Oh!_ ” Holmes was cut off as the pumpkin began to pick up speed, sliding up and down his cock. 

“Quiet.” Watson growled, feeling a tell tale heat curling low in his stomach, “Someone might hear us. Do I need to keep your mouth busy?” 

“Yes.” Holmes gasped underneath him, moaning as Watson trailed two fingers along his lips. He opened his mouth and greedily took them in, sucking on them as Watson fucked him from the back and the pumpkin from the front. 

“Shh… Sherlock, God,” Watson groaned as he felt his orgasm fast approaching.

" _JOHN!_ " The strangled cry came from Holmes around Watson’s fingers as he spent himself into the pumpkin. Holmes’ teeth bit into Watson’s hand and his arse clenched around his cock, sending Watson over the edge, spilling into Holmes as his vision went white. 

It took several moments for Watson to come to. Once he had caught his breath he carefully pulled out of Holmes- who was currently slumped across the table in a blissful haze. He drank in the sight of the normally tense genius now thoroughly undone by his doing, from his sweat slicked hair to those two delightful round cheeks. Before he could register what he was doing, Watson fell to his knees, spread Holmes' cheeks and licked a long strip downwards. 

" _Unh!_ " Was the only sound Holmes could muster, pushing himself back onto Watson's eager tongue. 

Watson was more than happy to oblige and licked deep inside, relishing in the taste of his own ejaculate on his tongue. Holmes' whines echoed the sound of Watson's obscene slurping noises, the whines growing to long moans as Watson began to rhythmically fuck him with his tongue. Holmes was hard again, his cock leaking over the mess of the now still pumpkin, and when Watson's hand reached for his hair and gave a sharp tug, Holmes cried and spent himself over the table for the second time that night. 

"I say," Watson said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he got to his feet "Jolly good show, eh old boy?" 

Holmes made no response, merely nodded his head as Watson peered at the pumpkin.  "It seems as though whatever spirit possessed our friend here has departed."

Watson told himself it was purely out of scientific curiosity (after all- he _was_ a doctor) that he dipped his finger into the pumpkin, scooped up a dribble of the pumpkin insides mixed with Holmes' semen, and licked it into his mouth. 

"Well, I've had worse." He laughed. 

"If you're referring to our recent engagement I'm afraid I am rather inexperienced." Holmes piped up from where he was now slumped onto the floor "But while I may not have anything to compare it to, I must say I found your efforts most satisfactory." 

Watson smiled down affectionately at Holmes before easily lifting him into his arms and carrying him to his green chair by the fire. Sitting in the chair himself he then sat Holmes on his lap, placing his long legs over the arm of the chair. 

"My dear boy," He said softly, massaging Holmes' head with his expert hands "I was referring to whatever was inside that pumpkin. You were extraordinary. The best I've had- on any continent."  

Holmes hummed contently in response, snuggling closer to Watson's chest. 

"Oh, and do not worry yourself about having nothing to compare it to. I'll soon remedy that." 

**Author's Note:**

> there's a couple of references to other sherlock adaptations, 10 points to slytherin if u spot them
> 
> 1) this is not a serious fic. it's supposed to be badly written and AWKWARD AS FUCK. i didn't even proof read it. did they say cock in victorian times? probably not, but i'm not writing "holmes pushed his sword stick into a pumpkin"  
> 2) you're probably going to hell after reading this, sorry  
> 3) no i have not fucked a pumpkin, yes there are people who fuck pumpkins, google image search is NOT your friend,  
> 4) if you haven't read the first f'ing pumpkin i wouldn't bother, it's nothing compared to this train wreck


End file.
